


The Pumpkin Queen's New Groove

by misa1



Category: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29960421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misa1/pseuds/misa1
Summary: Okay, so I wrote this fic back in 2013, and posted it on the pit.  I thought I'd posted it here on Ao3 as well, until I was looking through my works list the other day and realized it was missing. I'm not sure if I never posted this here?  Or if I posted it at some point and then deleted it?  Anyway, I'm probably going to delete my pit account soon, as I never use it these days and it's tied to a defunct email, so I'm moving this here.  I reread it for the first time in years, and I like it more than I thought I would for something I've written that I haven't revisited in ages.  It may take me some time to get all the chapters moved over here...
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

_[2013: Author's note] A lot of Jack-and-Sally fans (myself included) were completely a-squee by the adorable videos and pics posted online of the Hong Kong Disneyland Jack and Sally being kissy and snuggley with each other at the park. Those vids, and then a charming fanart illustration I saw of Sally pulling a suprised Jack in for a kiss, inspired this story. :3_

Jack slipped through the door of the inn room, a large wicker basket hooked over his boney arm. Sally felt herself relax completely for the first time since their arrival in the Bermuda Triangle.

"There now." said Jack. He lifted their sons from the basket, placing them beside his wife. "That's better, wouldn't you agree? I'm pleased to report that they were doing reasonably well back home. Our sitters followed procedures to a tee. Still Sally, I'd say you were correct. They belong here with us. I maintain a romantic get away without them was a bold idea, but perhaps it was too soon."

"I should have said more earlier, but I didn't know how I'd feel once we got here." Sally whispered. "I'm sorry you had to go all the way back to Halloweentown to fetch them, Jack, but thank you for doing it."

The Pumpkin King stretched, reaching his fingertips to the ceiling.

"Not at all." he yawned. "You're hardly alone in your relief. I'm every bit as happy as you are to have all of my Skellingtons together." With that, Jack crawled into the bed, taking a place near his wife and sons. "This may not be quite the relaxing romantic vacation we'd anticipated, but on the other hand, we have years ahead of us for that. Centuries, even."

"Mmhmmm." breathed Sally. Jack yawned a second time, closing his eye sockets. Wind-chimes on the balcony stirred in the warm breeze, releasing an eerie chord. A strip of vaporous fog slid past the curtains, probably the hint of some busy spirit taking a shortcut. "This place is like home in some ways." Sally whispered. "In other ways, it's almost better." Her family was already asleep, but for some reason she wanted to speak that thought out loud.

The Bermuda Triangle, much like Halloweentown, was a land for shadowy dark things. There ended most similarities. Where Halloweentown was jagged, a chilly assemblage of stone paths and peaked rooftops, The Triangle spread out as soft and flat as an open hand. The few hard edges, mostly long forgotten shells of old flying machines, had long been swallowed and diffused by vegetation. On all sides were ribbons of sand stroked by tepid waves and swirling mists. Enormous red and purple flowers looked on, nodding in the warm wind like wise elders. Afternoons in The Triangle were painfully bright. Most everyone hid inside, doing little that wasn't in some capacity recreational. At night, the black sky was so full of stars it looked as though it had been painted with a spray gun in wide splattery bands.

Jack had been here before, several times in fact, but not since he was a small skeleton boy. Now with his own wife and family, it seemed as good a time as any for a short vacation. For Sally, who had not yet seen much of anywhere other than the holiday towns of Halloween and Christmas, The Triangle was nearly surreal in its dreamlike strangeness. Tropical ambiance aside, she found it fascinating to observe a land with no holiday deadline. In The Triangle, Jack wasn't summoned by a frantic mayor, nor was he questioned by townsfolk in need of approvals. There were no piles of mending for Sally to finish, and no patterns to draw. Within any given lazy moment, everything felt possible. All of that was curious and delightful, but it was the other differences that made the most lasting impressions on the Pumpkin Queen.

Upon their arrival, not a single undead soul looked Sally up and down with appraisal when Jack introduced her as his queen. If anyone wondered where she'd come from, or speculated as to her qualifications for the title, those thoughts were unexpressed. Requests for seclusion were actually taken seriously, something shocking on its own when compared to Halloweentown. This was not to mention, no one flirted with Jack, not even the star struck young things who minded small matters at the inn. Sally found that especially refreshing, since at home it was known to happen right in front of her. Their first day, she observed two undead but wide-eyed housekeeping girls swoon into one another as Jack passed them in an elegantly decaying corridor. The pair quickly suppressed their display when their eyes met Sally's, and they fumbled into sheepish curtsies. The Pumpkin Queen made astounded mention of the encounter to her husband, once the couple was alone in their room.

"Well, of course." Jack said, amused at his wife's wonder. "You're The Queen of Halloween, are you not?"

"Yes, but...it's not like this at home." said Sally. "Not at all. And it's hardly as if I'm a true queen in that sense."

"Ah." Jack sighed. "To address your second point, you're probably right that it isn't quite as carved in stone as some would have it. Such formality simply wouldn't work well in Halloweentown, at least not as far as I'm concerned. It would get in the way of all the holiday work that needed to be done if everyone had to fall all over themselves with pomp and circumstance every time I showed my skull. Nevertheless, the fact remains: I am the one and only Pumpkin King. You are my wife, ergo, you are the Queen of Halloween, and there's nary a soul undead or alive who could dispute that. Beyond that darling, home is home. Halloweentown is a small place. It's like family, in its way. Families are comforting, but they also fall into unfortunate habits of riding roughshod on one another."

Sally took in her husband's words. Family remained a recent concept to her, belonging solely to the small secure circle she'd forged with Jack and their babies. And Zero, of course.

"Would you prefer home be more like this?" asked Jack, playfully interrupting her thoughts. He slid easily into his Pumpkin King persona, voice dipping lower as his teeth became fangs.

"If you wish, I can insure my queen receives the proper level of respect." He chased his words with a wicked laugh. Sally smiled, rolling her eyes. She touched her finger to his nose.

"I don't need curtsies at home, Jack."

And she didn't. But having now tasted both ends of this curious continuum, Sally

had to admit that she might not object to the enforcement of a happy medium.


	2. Chapter 2

Close to sunset, The Pumpkin Queen sat alone in a domed armchair on the inn's shaded veranda. She looked out over the ocean, one leg curled under her while the other rocked the twins' basket on the floor. The sun oozed downward toward the horizon. Jack told her that on occasion there came a striking glitter of green light as the sun disappeared, or on the other side of the island, as it rose. Sally focused eagerly, hoping to catch sight of it. One of the babies coughed and she cooed and rocked the basket more quickly. They'd woken up fussing only a half hour before. Given that Jack made the trek back home to collect the children on behalf of his anxious wife, Sally thought it fair that he be allowed to sleep in.

When despite her best efforts, the tiny cough was followed by a tentative squeak, Sally swept Jack jr. from the basket, pulling him into her before he could wake his brother. If both of them took to screeching, the entire island would know it. Back home in the town square, the then newborn twins once launched into a stereo protest that cracked a nearby shop windowpane. Dr. Finklestein, on a rare sojourn from seclusion in his laboratory, had given Sally a look which somehow achieved the midway point between withering and smug. He clearly fancied himself correct in his prediction that motherhood would land her squarely in over her head. Even sitting a world away, the memory made Sally's cheeks burn with remembered frustration. It wasn't as if anyone else could have faired better. Being Jack's, her little ones were born celebrated screamers. "Those were old windows, anyway." Jack had comforted her that night, further speculating that most babies probably broke windows now and again.

There's no telling how long Sally would have remained lost in thought, had she not been distracted by movement in her peripheral vision. Turning from the impending sunset, she faced a young man, one of the employees of the inn. Though he lacked stitches, his skin resembled her own in its bluish palor. He stood fidgeting a few feet from Sally's chair. His hands were clasped at his waist, as his cloudy gray eyes glanced from his shoes, to her, and back. Seconds passed. He wrung his fingers, looking helplessly towards a staff door from which he'd likely emerged.

"Are you okay?" Sally asked, feeling a twinge of maternal concern. At her words, the young man exhaled with obvious relief. "May I get you anything, Your Majesty?" he asked. "Is there anything you wish, or require?"

"No, but thank you." said Sally, smiling at him. The young man nodded at his shoes before backing away. As he rushed backwards through the door, he nearly bumped into an older woman on the way out. Sally recognized her from their arrival. Her name was Constance. She was brisk but cheerful, and seemed a sort of boss of the place. Tonight she checked water pitchers and coffee urns, as sunset heralded the start of another workday for she and the others serving guests at the inn. A little girl trotted behind Constance's skirt, carrying two fistfuls of flowers. The child placed them a few at a time, as she encountered empty vases along her path.

"Constance?" Sally asked quietly. "I'm not troubling anyone by sitting here, am I? I'm just waiting for Jack to wake up."

Constance shook her head, as if the very idea were something far beyond absurd. She stood up straight, hands at her waist, much as the young man had done.

"Not at all, Your Majesty. Nothing of the sort. Please don't mind Harold. He's still learning."

"Of course not. I understand most completely." Sally said with a nod.

"This can be a difficult place to get one's bearings." Constance continued, reluctantly releasing a sliver of her stiff formality. The small girl with the flowers pressed to her back, peering around the gathered edge of her apron. "So many important people and creatures come here." Constance went on. "It can be intimidating. One often feels awkward in the beginning, waiting to be spoken to."

"Was that why he stood for so long?" Sally asked. "He needed me to speak? But why?" She suddenly wondered if the young man was perhaps under a spell. Some witches could find affront in just about anything, and it certainly sounded like something a slighted witch would do to a person, making them unable to start their own conversations. That would have made perfect sense to Sally, however the explanation was nothing of the sort.

"You're a queen, ma'am." said Constance. She said it kindly, but in a tone that was almost concerned, as one would remind someone of their name. "One does not address a queen before being spoken to."

Sally's lips parted, stunned. It took her a moment to find her voice, with which she soundly assured Constance that no such formality was necessary. Really. It really wasn't necessary. Constance finally accepted this, but Sally suspected it was only in an effort to acquiesce to what was being asked of her - by a queen. The pair fell into a measured silence. Jack jr. squirmed against his mother. Looking much like a delicate black and white spider, his tiny hand reached from the blanket, coming to rest below his mother's throat.

"Ooooh..." Constance breathed, lifting her hands to her mouth. "Is that...? I had no idea you'd brought the little ones!"

"We hadn't planned to." said Sally, grateful for a fresh topic of conversation. "Jack ran home and got them while I slept. He wanted to give me a rest, but I wasn't ready to be away from them just yet."

Constance nodded, unable to pull her eyes from the little hand.

"I understand." she said, nodding. "They're only born late October, after all. Much too soon to be away from their mum. Men take longer to understand these things, but you know how you ache inside if they're too far from you at that age."

Constance petted her own little girl's head. The child's hair was wet, hanging in wavy damp strings on her cheeks and shoulders. Sally sensed it was always wet, just as an angry wound on the girl's forehead would never heal. Her skirt hem dripped water around her feet, and it always would. She existed in the condition of her passing. Sally wondered why Constance didn't carry such markers on her person. It was hard to say, and not at all something one could ask. These things were complicated.

"Constance?" Sally asked, as a thought struck her. "How did you know our twins were born in October? Did Jack tell you?"

"No, ma'am. We keep up with most Halloweentown doings here in The Triangle, almost as if you were our own. Jack will always find warm welcome here, and we were so glad to hear of you. But then, surely you must know your princes were news all over? Most everyone of our kind knows about them, the world over. That is, everyone of a mind to pay attention to such things, of course. Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

Sally shook her head "no", her brain spinning.


	3. Chapter 3

After her conversation with Constance, it took every ounce of patience Sally could muster to keep from waking Jack and peppering him with questions. Was he aware of this? That the whole ghoulish, spooky, world knew of their children, right down to their birthdate? And by extension, that she was known? Then again, maybe Jack did know, and it didn't faze him. Jack was accustomed to all manner of things still new and strange to Sally. The fact that he was famous was a given. He was the Pumpkin King of Halloween, after all. He'd been everywhere, and even the humans knew him. They may not have known what to call him - but they knew him. Sally bit at her lip, looking toward the inn hall every few seconds, hoping to see her husband emerge.

The twins now both awake, Sally distracted herself playing with them while the inn rose to life around her. Waitstaff and housekeepers caught their breath as they walked near the skeletal children. The young girls murmured soft exclamations, most closely described as: "squeee!". Before long, other well-to-do inn guests up for the evening began strolling the veranda. Men honored The Pumpkin Queen with deep bows as they passed, and there were still more curtsies from women. Though she graciously acknowledged every greeting, Sally felt as if her vacation was reaching toward an unprecedented level of strange. Whether or not Jack was awake, she decided it might be time to flee back to the room. But then, Jack jr. placed his boney little fingers into his mouth and...screeeeeamed. It was, quiet literally, enough to wake any of the dead not yet up for the evening. Sally had all but forgotten about the emerging tooth that had rankled her son's mood back home. As he wailed, she could have sworn one of the nearby windows shuddered. Immediate crisis management was called for. Sally scanned the veranda, only half aware that those watching her son's bravura performance did so with nothing less than disturbed awe. She caught the attention of the closest housekeeper. As the young girl timidly approached, Sally recognized her as one of the pair who'd curtsied in the hall the previous evening after being caught oogling Jack. She had gray skin and dark hair with curls shaped like Spiral Hill. A quick request from The Pumpkin Queen, shouted over the Prince's royal din, and the girl scurried away. She reappeared seconds later with ice cubes in a linen napkin. Sally smiled with gratitude as her son set to comforting his teeth, gnawing ferciously at the makeshift teether.

"I couldn't find the clove oil, m'aam." said the girl, wringing her hands. "But there must be a bottle someplace. We'll find it for you."

"Thank you, thank you, thaaank you." said Sally, sighing deeply in empathetic harmony with her son's relief. "I'm used to them being loud at home," she confided quietly, "but it's harder somewhere new. I can't tell you how helpful, you've been."

The girl nodded humbly. She began to back away - then paused.

"M'aam?" she said, her voice barely a whisper as she looked from side to side. "Miss Constance would kill me, but could I ask you something? Please say no, if this is intrusive. I know it's improper."

"You can ask whatever you'd like." said Sally, unable to think of a question she wouldn't answer from someone who'd helped her spare the ancient inn's glass panes from her son's decibels. The girl clasped her pale fingers as she spoke, still casting nervous glances to make sure Constance wouldn't catch her.

"How did you make yourself do that?" she whispered. "Sneaking into that giant boogie monster's place, to save the Yule man? We talked about it, myself and some of the other girls. We were amazed, m'aam, especially since you sort of seemed someone like us, but none of us could imagine doing that. Especially all alone."

"I-I..I don't know..." Sally stammered. I only did what I had to, I suppose. But wait, how did you-?"

Sally stopped mid-sentence when she saw the young housekeeper's eyes grow wide. The Pumpkin King stepped gracefully onto the veranda and strode to his wife's side.

"Is everything alright, darling? Sorry I slept so long! The trip home and back must have taken more from me than I'd thought! I was dead to the world, so to speak. Then, I heard our son's most horrible screams ringing through my brain."

Sally smiled.

"We're fine, Jack, thanks to...?"

"Isabel, ma'am." the housekeeper whispered, looking at her feet.

"Well, fantastic!" said Jack, beaming his signature grin. Isabel issued a quick curtsey, before backing away to join two other young women. The pair had been taking a noticeably long time watering plants within earshot of their coworker and the Queen. When they saw Jack, both became so preoccupied staring that they nearly emptied their watering cans onto the wooden floor boards rather than into the pots.

"Shall we go forth and greet the night, my love?" asked Jack, helping his wife to her feet.

"Yes, Jack." replied Sally. "That sounds wonderful. I need to talk to you too, Jack."

"Excellent, excellent! It's our vacation, after all. Provided our sons cooperate, we can talk all night, if you want to!" said Jack. He planted a loud kiss on little Nicholas' skull.

"I do want to!" said Sally, linking her arm through her husband's. "And it might just take all night!"


	4. Chapter 4

Upon hearing that the Skellingtons were heading out to the beach for the evening, Constance insisted on a small entourage of staff forging ahead to make sure things were satisfactorily arranged. The inn workers wasted little effort and even less time making sure Halloweentown's first family could want for nothing. In short order, the Skellingtons sheltered in a spiderweb-festooned cabana which very much reminded Sally of her sewing tent back home. Then again, in her sewing tent she'd be hard at work. Here, she half-reclined on a brocaid cushioned chaise. Nicholas sat backwards in her lap, giggling as she made faces at him. His brother squirmed on a blanket arranged on the soft gray sand, at least momentarily free from dental discomfort.

"I guess I should have prepared you for all of this fuss..." Jack said to his wife. He stood just outside the fringed roof of their enclosure, admiring the view of rolling surf and inky sky. "I didn't give it much thought, but I can see where this sort of thing could leave one perplexed, especially compared to the workaday world back home." He cast off his suit jacket, depositing it on a corner of his son's blanket. "I don't know what I was thinking, wearing my customary garb out here." he murmured to himself. "It takes some time to fit one's brain into the vacation mindset, I suppose." He unfastened two of his shirt buttons. "There now! Hardly ideal, but for the present, much improved. Perhaps the shops will have something lighter."

"Isabel knew about Christmas, and Oogie, and Santa." blurted Sally. She wished Jack would be as surprised as she was by something, but instead of widening his eye sockets and pressing her for more details, he only cringed and scratched his skull.

"Yeees, well... Naturally that whole fiasco would have been news. Ugh! I'm glad I'm so affectionately regarded in these parts! If someone wanted to poke fun, I cut their work out for them with that mess, didn't I? I wouldn't blame you if you were a little embarrassed of me."

"Jack." Sally said quietly, clicking her tongue. Jack jr. began to grumble. His father picked him up, holding the child against his ribs.

"I suppose what I don't understand is exactly how everyone finds these things out." said Sally, pushing back into their conversation. Jack, she even knew about me! She knew I'd tried to help you, and that I'd tried to rescue Santa myself! How could she have known that part? How could anyone?"

"Ghosts, most likely." Jack said, the word carried from his skull by a gentle laugh. "No matter where, when, or what a body is up to, it's nearly certain a ghost or two knows what's going on. When you think about it, it's actually surprising they don't say more! Very big news gets written down, just to be sure the details are correct, but ghosts are the information bearers of our kind, no question.

Sally's lips tightened. Her husband laughed, reading her mind. "Now don't worry, darling. Their restraint has always been admirable in Halloweentown, for the most part anyway. I suppose I could get my spine in a twist over the traveling tales of my Christmas disaster, but I can hardly blame anyone else for that. Christmas was my folly. I'll look at it thusly: if the story must be out in the world, at least everyone knows I was smart enough to take home the girl who risked so much to help me!"

Soaking up his words, Sally looked out at the sea and sky. The beach was quiet and sparsely populated with vacationing ghouls and creatures here and there. Some carried lanterns. Sally guessed they were like her, unable to see in the dark. She was the only person she knew in Halloweentown with that disability. Although Jack never regarded her lack of night vision as anything remarkable, finally seeing other beings in the same boat made Sally smile. Their lanterns were unlit tonight; unnecessary under the night's clear sky and full moon. Still, she could see why they carried them at the ready. At least Halloweentown had ramshackle gaslights along its cobblestone streets. The Triangle boasted an occasional torch, but little else in the way of outdoor illumination. Even the torches may well have been for atmosphere as much as accommodation to the non-darksighted. Either way, it hardly mattered when everyone and everything was painted by bright moonlight, like figures dipped in silver. Sally held her hand out before her face, admiring the way her blue flesh almost seemed to glow. A group of young women passed by, chattering happily, arms locked together at their elbows. Sally watched them, astounded. Her expression betrayed as much, and Jack laid a hand on her arm.

"Are you quite all right, Love?"

She gave her head a small shake, smiling.

"Yes. Only, the women here wear different things. Small things."

Jack followed her gaze, making Sally question why she would have thought to draw his attention to them. On the other hand, it was hard to miss.

"Oooh. Well, yes." laughed Jack. "That's born of necessity, I suppose. The heat."

"I don't know that I've ever been that hot." said Sally.

"Oh, I entirely disagree, Sally! I've seen you scorching!" Jack teased.

"You alone!" she said with a giggle, pushing lightly against his shoulder.

"True enough." said Jack. "And while that hardly seems fair to the rest of the world, I can't say I don't appreciate the exclusivity."

The couple smiled at one another, then Sally looked back to the women. She could hardly imagine strolling the world wearing so little, yet there was a certain appealing lightness to the concept. Lightness both literal and figurative. If nothing else, how much time could one save on sewing? She stumbled into the amusing thought of how everyone at home might react, should she suddenly make an appearance wearing such things. The witch sisters would crash their brooms. The doctor would be appalled. There were nearly enough potential rewards to consider trying it.


	5. Chapter 5

Sally could have sworn that the nights and days passed by one another more quickly in The Triangle than back home in Halloweentown. Jack chuckled when she made mention of the phenomenon. “We’re on vacation.” he explained with a sleepy sigh, sliding into bed before sunrise on their third night. “’Ay, me! Sad hours seem long’ - Shakespeare”.

“But I’m not sad at home.” said Sally. “I’m very happy.” Zero wagged a corner of his sheet at her last word, and pushed his nose under her fingers to be scratched.

“Of course not, Darling.” Jack replied. “I only mean that things here are so deliciously idle. Apart from the babies, that is. Home is work. Good work, yes, but work all the same. In any event, we should enjoy the tranquility while it lasts.”

He reached across the bed to pull her close, curling his long arm about her waist. “Close your eyes, Pumpkin Queen.”

And Sally did just that, but wandering thoughts kept her from sinking immediately into slumber. Sad hours seem long, indeed. There was truth in that, but she’d had been likewise truthful that she wasn’t sad in her day to day life as The Queen of Halloween. She was intimately familiar with sadness, and now lived as far from the word as she could imagine. Still, she couldn’t deny there was something prickling her. The condition of being so well known in The Triangle continued to perplex, and dear as he was, Jack provided little help in unraveling the puzzle of it all. He tried, but as she’d recognized earlier, such things were a fact of life for him. He’d been famous and probably longer than anyone could hope to remember.

It was here that a sudden bright hole in the logic of it all popped into Sally’s brain: Jack was respected, loved, and admired in Halloweentown. He felt that same adulation in The Triangle, and in any number of other places known to their kind. Sally’s experience was of course quite limited, however, if her few interactions in The Triangle proved any indication, she was regarded every bit as well as Jack here, and not only in terms of being liked. There was more to it than that. Everyone in Halloweentown eventually heard every nuance of what had transpired in Oogie’s dungeon, yet none of them expressed the wide-eyed awe displayed by Isabel. 

Jack spooned against his wife’s back. Zero draped across her feet. The twins lay beside her, Jack jr. grasping the bodice of her nightgown with his thin fingers. 

It was his soft rumbley breathing that at last helped Sally push the sleeplessness aside. Every sweet sigh and murmur reminded her that as peaceful as the children appeared, they could wake at any time. Sleep was a gift, not to be turned down. With that, she willed her mind to quiet. 

The Skellington family slept peacefully until nearly sundown, when Sally jolted awake once more at the now familiar notes of the balcony wind-chime. Another ghostly traveler. This time however, the specter wasn’t simply passing through, using the room as a shortcut. The misty form coalesced into a being marginally more structured, before moving gracefully toward the bed. Uncertain, Sally sat up, placing herself between the visitor and her children. A mere second behind his wife, Jack did much the same, moving in front of his family to receive the intruder. The ghost produced an envelope.

“Begging your pardon, your majesty.” it said. It bowed, then disappeared, letting the envelope drop onto the bed. Jack picked it up.

“What is it?” Sally asked, looking over his shoulder.

“It’s from home.” Jack answered, his voice peevish. “You know, when I awoke to see that ghost coming toward us with such purpose, I thought perhaps it was one of two things: He was a wronged ghost, vengeful and angry, and I’d have to fight him for the protection of my beloved family. Or, he could simply have a letter for me from home, regarding some matter in need of my immediate attention. I must say, I might have preferred the former.”

Jack read the message in silence, a scowl crossing his skull.

“The Mayor is concerned.” he said at last.

“Always.” Sally countered. She settled the twins to eat. A crack of sky between the curtains glowed fiery orange with the sunset.

“Yes, no argument from me on that point, but it seems there is some conflict of opinion between the vampires and the leeches regarding territories for blood drainage next Halloween. The leeches argue that the vampires only win first prize each year because they monopolize too many places.

“The leeches and the vampires can’t agree to share?” asked Sally. Jack shook his skull.

“Sadly no. We tried that once, and it was utter disaster. Whole towns, anemic by November first. An unfortunate circumstance, all around.”

Jack cursed softly under his breath. He rose from the bed to dress, Sally watching him carefully. When he pulled his traditional Halloween suit from the dresser, rather than a new thin linen one he’d purchased the previous night, she uttered a quiet gasp of exasperation.

“You need to leave? They can’t wait three days?”

“I’d imagine they’re making their holiday schedules now, and if this isn’t resolved in short order, I’ll have a bigger mess to contend with upon our return. The Mayor won’t do a thing by himself, because he’s afraid of making the wrong decision.”

Jack fastened his tie and pulled on his jacket, making quick check of his pocket watch as he strode back to his wife’s side. “I know, I know, I know. You know, I know.” he said mournfully. “But I’ll be quick about it. Quick as lightning. Quick as strychnine. Double quick!”

“Double quick.” said Sally. Jack smiled and gave her a kiss. He dotted a kiss on each of his son’s skulls - then raced away. Sally looked down at the babies.

“Well. We don’t have your daddy to show us around. What should we get up to today, without him?”

It was a very good question.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was well set. Inky darkness poured over The Triangle, as The Queen of Halloween dressed her sons and herself, still trying to decide how best to fill the night. She was no closer to a plan than she’d been moments after Jack’s departure, when came a soft knock on the room door. She opened it to find the young man from that first evening. The quiet, uncertain one referred to as “Harold” by Constance. Since he’d been so particular about not speaking first, Sally made it a point to say “Hello” immediately this time, in the hopes of easing their interaction.

“I brought your breakfast, M’aam.” Harold said, gesturing to an elegant silver serving cart arranged with two place settings.

“Oooh...” Sally murmured, stepping aside to allow him into the room with the cart. “Thank you very much. Jack didn’t know he’d be leaving, obviously, or we would have told someone. I hope this was no trouble.” 

“Of course it wasn’t, M’aam, but... Did you say, his majesty left?”

“Only just.” Sally replied with a nod. “He’ll return by sunrise, I hope. He was called back to Halloweentown for work.”

The young man blinked his filmy gray eyes, looking suddenly flumoxed, as someone seconds away from being caught in a grave misdeed.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed, looking down. “If I’d known, I would have sent one of the girls. It’s hardly proper for me to intrude here, if you’re unaccompanied.”

“That’s silly, there’s no worry at all.” Sally assured him, her expression quizzical. “Jack slipped away at sunset. There’s no way anyone could have known he was gone. It’s perfectly alright.”

“I thank you, M’aam.” Harold said. He nodded respectfully and backed out of the room, stumbling over the door sill en route. 

“There are so many rules in the world.” Sally sighed to her sons once they were again alone. She turned to the serving cart. In the center sat a porcelain bowl of sliced fruit. The glistening colors were as unfamiliar to Sally’s Halloweentown eyes as the tropical flowers outside the inn, or those airy ensembles she’d observed on women strolling the shoreline and inn hallways. Just like that, Sally had an excellent idea for how to spend her evening.

oOo

“I could be in a little trouble.” whispered Harold to Isabel the housekeeper. He held his forefinger and thumb up in front of his nose, indicating approximately how little he meant, give or take.

“What did you do now?” Isabel asked. She barely glanced at him, her attention focused on a tempermental coffee decanter.

“I took the breakfast cart to the King and Queen of Halloween’s room just now. I went inside and everything, and then realized it was just her. The Queen. He’s gone off on something work related, and she was alone.”

“You shouldn’t have gone inside!” Isabel hissed.

“I shouldn’t have been doing it at all! But the cart was ready, and cook was impatient for it to go! I even said I wasn’t sure if I should take it myself, but I worried I’d lose my head if it got cold waiting for someone else. You know how cook is.”

“I know, I know...” Isabel sighed, at last having wrestled the decanter into submission. “Sea serpents are like that. You’re alright, though. No one knows.”

“True.” conceded Harold, calming himself. “Well, The Queen knows, of course.” 

“Eh, I’d say you’re safe with her. She’s somewhat new at all this as well, I gather.” said Isabel. “I wouldn’t worry too -”

Isabel was interrupted mid-sentence by Harold tapping her arm. He nodded toward the far end of the veranda. Approaching the pair was The Pumpkin Queen. Constance followed, at a close but respectful distance. Her daughter, as always, trotted by her side.

“Oh. Maybe you are in trouble.” Isabel whispered to her panicked coworker.

Constance cleared her throat before speaking.

“Isabel. You are excused from your duties today. Her Majesty, the Queen of Halloween, has something with which she requires assistance. She has requested your help, specifically.”

“Mine, M’aam?” asked Isabel with a nervous hiccup. She was vaguely aware that Harold was slinking away, sliding backwards toward the kitchen door while all attention was on her.

“You were such a great help the other day.” The Queen said warmly. “With the baby, I mean. My husband had to run home for the evening, and I don’t know my way in this place, not at all. I’d like to buy some fabric. I wondered if you could help me.”

“Of course, M’aam. “

“Will you need someone to watch your tiny ones? It can be arranged.” asked Constance. Sally shook her head.

“Thank you, but no. I’ll bring them with us.”

“Of course, M’aam. But, if I could suggest, with two babes and whatever you find to buy, you may wish an extra set of hands.”

“Harold.” Isabel supplied, more quickly than she’d intended. It would serve him right for being so quick to throw her under the carriage at the first sign of trouble.

“I’m not certain Harold is the best choice - “ Constance started, but Sally nodded brightly at Isabel’s suggestion.

“Yes! He’s been very helpful here too! That would be lovely.”

Constance nodded, offering a weak smile, as Isabel scurried off to fetch their traveling companion.


	7. Chapter 7

“If I’d been thinking ahead, I would have brought the pram. It was silly of us to leave it home, but then again, it would have been hard to push on the soft ground.”

Sally walked by Isabel’s side, her hand on the girl’s arm, along a path carved out between nodding palm trees and alocasia leaves. The twins traveled in their sling against her. The children’s babbling occasionally lifted into a shared musical note, sustained for several seconds, then allowed to subside again into more typical infantile mutterings.

“Are they...okay?” Harold ventured, after the third such instance. He followed behind the women, still not entirely certain why he was selected for this excursion.

“They are!” Sally said cheerfully over her shoulder. “They’re very happy! Babies like to go out and see new things. They can see better than I can here, I’m quite sure of it.” The radiant moonbeams of previous evenings were decidedly off-duty this night. Everything was shadow and velvety black, pierced only by the lantern in Isabel’s free hand. Isabel had changed her clothes before leaving the inn, forgoing her usual black and white maid’s uniform for one of those flowery dresses that Sally found fascinating for their lack of stitchery. Harold decided that a change of clothes could be yet one more opportunity to commit a faux pas, and therefore ambled along in his uniform pants and white shirt. After much prodding, Isabel had at least convinced him to leave his vest behind.

“There will be lights just up ahead, m’aam.” Isabel offered. She was correct. As the party reached the edge of the thick vegetation, the ground widened and smoothed, hemmed by glowing torches of the kind surrounding the inn. The flames were greenish white. They cast dancing patterns on sandy stone pathways that splintered off between lines of small buildings with wind-tattered awnings. Creatures roamed the shops and eateries, their voices carrying on the warm air. Here at last was something that reminded Sally of Halloweentown, albeit with an obviously different flavor.

“Fabric, fabric, fabric...” Isabel breathed, mostly to herself. “M’aam, is it just any kind of cloth or fabric you need?”

“I suppose what I’m hoping for, is something I can’t find anywhere else.” Sally answered thoughtfully. “There are colors here that we don’t simply don’t have in Halloweentown. And flowers, too! You’d rarely find anything with flowers at home.”

Isabel regarded the wistful gaze at her flowered skirt, struck for not the first time by how young the Pumpkin Queen seemed. Spending time with her, particularly away from the order and procedure of the inn, it was too easy to forget that she was who she was, and not just one of the girls Isabel palled about with in her free hours. She thought for a moment, eyes narrow, then said: “I know exactly where.” The words “Follow me” perched on her lips, but she caught them before they took flight. One couldn’t order a queen to do anything, much less something that by definition would require the monarch in question to trail behind. “This way!” seemed little better. At last, Isabel gestured to one of the pathways before them, saying: “There’s a place down there, your majesty.”

“Perfect.” the Pumpkin Queen responded. “I’ll follow you.” 


	8. Chapter 8

Much to Sally’s delight, the fabric shop was everything she’d hoped for. Well-lit by hanging lamps, its walls were lined with bolts of cloth, floor to ceiling. As Sally had told Isabel, there were colors in The triangle that didn’t exist in Halloweentown. That observation was reaffirmed twice over by the brilliant fuschias, blues, and yellows spread across the walls and tables before her. The shop mistress, a creature that reminded her more than a little of Fishgal from home with her glistening scales and webbed fingertips, was delighted to chat with someone else knowledgeable about her wares. She supplied material to some of the best monsters and ghouls visiting The Triangle, but they rarely came to see her themselves. Most sent a seamstress or clothier in their employ, tasked with choosing something for them.

“I love every thread here.” she lamented “Even though I don’t wear much of these things myself. Still, how well can they possibly be appreciated by anyone who doesn’t care to choose their own things? Clothing needs to be all around a body after all, doesn’t it? That’s worthy of real consideration.”

“I believe I know what you mean.” said Sally. She stroked her fingers over a brilliant blue satin, embroidered with silver vines.

“I believe you do!” said the shopkeeper. 

Isabel and Harold stood off to one side. Isabel held baby Nicholas, studying his wide-eye-socketed face with wonder. Harold had nearly been asked to hold Jack jr., but much to his relief, the child was fast asleep in Sally’s sling and she’d decided it was better not to disturb him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hold this one? Just for a minute?” Isabel asked. Her tone indicated she sincerely thought it was an offer no one could refuse.

“Quite sure, yes.” Harold assured her. “Please don’t drop him, Isabel. Whatever you do, don’t drop him.”

“I’m not going to drop him!” she whispered back, laughing. “But, he is so cute, isn’t he?”

“Well, yes, I suppose so.” Harold answered. It felt like the right thing to say, but he never could decide what made one baby or another particularly ‘cute’.

“We’re very glad to see you here in The Triangle.” the shopkeeper said to Sally. Her voice was almost conspiratorial, gently moving their conversation for the first time away from fabric bolts and garment construction.

“That’s kind of you.” Sally replied. Again, here was that strangeness she’d yet succeeded to unravel.

Harold’s ears pricked to the conversation, and he nudged Isabel.

“Of course, I never imagined you’d come here, to my store of all places!” the shopkeeper continued “But even if you hadn’t, it’s wonderful for the whole island to have you and his majesty visit. It’s been a very long time since he’s been here. Before I was even born! Everyone says he’s so happy now, and calm. That’s wonderful to hear. What we have done if he hadn’t come back from the human world after all that trouble? They’re so dangerous when they get scared, humans, aren’t they? It’s safe enough on Halloween, naturally but you take your existence in your hands any other day.”

“She needs to stop...” Harold whispered to Isabel. Isabel grew nervous, but remained silent. Nicholas babbled something, aimed at regaining her attention. Unsuccessful, he reached for one of her black curls, stretching it down before his face for examination.

“You’ve heard a lot.” Sally said. Her voice was even, too free from inflection for Isabel to decide whether she should intervene and attempt some manner of redirection.

“Of course!” the shopkeeper agreed. “I’ve said as much when it’s come up with friends here, you know, but I’d imagine your people at home must thank the stars for you.”

“I’m uncertain that that’s the case.” Sally responded with an uncomfortable laugh. She indicated a length cut from the blue bolt, and shopkeeper nodded, unrolling the fabric, and pulling a lengthy pair of shears from a drawer beneath the counter as she talked.

“Truly? I’d heard stirrings to that effect, but I dismissed it as rumor. It hardly made much sense after all, what with everything that happened.”

“If you don’t mind my asking...” Sally said quickly. “Where exactly do you get your news of things in Halloweentown? Is it all from ghosts?”

“Mostly, but then it’s written down, of course.”

Sally bit her lip, thinking. She’d seen Jack and on occasion others at home reading various missives and messages from somewhere or another. She suddenly felt rather dull for never having made it a point to look at these things herself, but it was difficult enough some days to figure out what was happening in Halloweentown. Now she wondered if perhaps her concentration on the only land she knew had lead to a skewed perception of the larger world. She requested two more cuts of fabric. The shopkeeper happily obliged, gifting her a fourth for no one reason, or maybe any number of them.

oOo

“I apologize if that was too familiar or intrusive, your majesty.” Harold said earnestly as he followed behind Sally after leaving the shop. He carried her purchased yards of fabric, carefully bundled together and wrapped in brown paper.

“I wouldn’t say that. It was interesting.” she answered. “Do we have more time?”

“We do, m’aam.” Isabel replied. “Is there anything more you’d like to find here, or would you rather we help you back across the island toward the inn?”

Sally paused, thinking. After a few seconds silence, she decided.

“If there’s a place that sells items for potions and cooking, things I could bring home easily, that would be lovely.”

“Easily managed, m’aam.” Isabel replied. “Will that be all?”

“No. Let’s do that, and if there’s still time, I’d very much like to see somewhere with papers. All of those papers where people have written what the ghosts say.”

Harold laughed, forgetting himself momentarily.

“That would be your room, Isabel, wouldn’t it? You collect all those sorts of gossipy things.” He dropped into silence at the glare leveled at him by his coworker.

“I-I don’t!” Isabel began defensively, but the hopeful expression on the Queen’s face stopped her.

“Do you have some of those things, Isabel?” Sally asked. “About Jack’s Christmas, or about me, or the children? Do you really have some of those papers with the stories?”

“I do, somewhere.” she said. “I can find them for you, if you’re really interested in seeing them, M’aam.”

“Yes! I am very interested!” Sally replied, clasping her hands. “Potion things, then I’ll need to feed babies, then the papers? If it’s not a lot of trouble for you? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s not the least bother, M’aam.” Isabel replied, and it wasn’t, even if it all struck the girl as terribly curious. Why would The Queen of Halloween need to read any of those second-hand stories, when she’d lived through them herself? Weren’t such things more interesting to ordinary inn girls, stuck a world away from explosions, and Halloween, and giant cruel monsters, and ancient men from other worlds entirely?


	9. Chapter 9

A world away from The Triangle, The Pumpkin King was doing his best to extricate himself from work, and return to his family. The Mayor beamed, pleased to have at least one crisis handily managed and off of his plate.

“Thank you, Jack! We couldn’t have managed without you! We never can! Your invaluable contributions to Halloween are never taken for granted, but may I just say that in your absence, we learned to even better appreciate your extraordinary – “

“Thank you, Mayor!” Jack cut in. “Thank you very much! Now, if that will be all, I must get back. I’m never one to shirk duty when it calls, but I was in the middle of a vacation, after all.”

“Naturally, Jack. Of course.” Answered The Mayor, spinning to a mournful pout, though he wasn’t exactly surprised. He’d felt a hint of disappointment when Jack arrived back to town alone to address the dispute between the vampires and the leeches. Had the king returned with his family in tow, it would have suggested the intention of possibly cutting his holiday short and getting back to work. It wasn’t that The Mayor begrudged Jack a rest, not exactly, but how much of a break did he _really_ need? Shouldn’t a couple of days have sufficed? A week without Jack, and Halloween risked chaotic destruction, did it not? Eh, perhaps things were that dire, but he still thought Jack was taking quite the risk.

“No worries, Mayor! None at all! I’ll be home again in no time!” Jack reassured, patting his colleague’s shoulder. “Off with me, now! My poor Sally has been all alone with the children, in a strange place. I expect my poor love’s bored to tears, if the twins give her enough peace to be bored, that is.”

oOo

“You read through them all first, didn’t you?” Harold whispered to Isabel. “There’s nothing upsetting, I hope?”

“Of course I read them.” Isabel whispered in reply. “They’re mine, aren’t they? There’s nothing bad in any of them about her. Why would there be?”

Harold stood in a corner of the inn’s veranda, arms folded across his chest as he looked out over the sea. Isabel sat on a picnic blanket near his feet. She was currently the envy of every other ghoulish young girl working at the inn, as she’d not only spent the night off-premises as The Pumpkin Queen’s guide, she now occupied herself entertaining a baby Skellington. The King’s namesake squealed as Isabel wiggled her fingers at him. The Queen sat in a nearby wrought iron glider, Nicholas against her while she sat engrossed in a pile of papers, newsletters, and bulletins retrieved by Isabel from her room. 

“Oh, you’d better be sure there’s nothing troubling in there...” Harold fretted. Over the course of their strange evening, Isabel had grown far more comfortable with The Queen than Harold could ever imagine being. As the hours passed, she’d easily dropped much of the formalities pounded into them at those interminable staff meetings, chatting away with The Queen, much as she did with any of the other girls they lived and worked with. True enough, The Queen wasn’t much older, if she was older at all, and she was cheerful and eager to converse. Still, one couldn’t forget who she was. The idea of Isabel rummaging around in her room for accounts of ghostly gossip struck Harold as a questionable one. “Can you imagine what Constance would say if you gave her something that made her upset? What about if the King found out? I’d get dragged down too, of course, since here I am. Constance is always giving me the side eye, even on a good day.”

“Oh stop! For pity’s sake...” Isabel sighed. “Don’t you think I’d know better? Anyway, she’s something of a darling to most everyone anyway, what with all that happened. Don’t you think it odd that it’s nearly as if she doesn’t know it?”

“It is, true enough.” Harold said thoughtfully. “But if she hasn’t traveled from Halloweentown much before this, I guess that would explain it.”

The pair’s chatter died down for a spell, before Harold’s nerves prompted him to speak again.

“Does she look okay? Her face? Is she happy?” He wished he could at least read her expression. Though much less apprehensive than her compatriot, Isabel found herself wishing the same thing. Sally’s expression was intent, but betrayed no particular emotion. She rested her chin against her hand, her fingertips pressing against her dark lips. She turned through the papers slowly, pausing now and again to pat the prince’s backside or adjust him against her.

_The King of Halloween, Jack Skellington, has been destroyed! The Pumpkin King was shot from the sky by human weapons! What will this mean for Halloweentown, and for Halloween itself? One speculates that the dastardly Oogie Boogie would take over the holiday in Jack’s absence. Such an outcome will no doubt be dreaded by the people of Halloweentown. What of the fate of the Yule man, brought to Halloweentown on Jack’s request? The possible repercussions of tonight’s tragedy can not be overstated˜_

_IMPORTANT! The Pumpkin King is ALIVE! Jack Skellington miraculously survived the human attack and returned to Halloweentown, only to do great battle with the vile Oogie Boogie! It was thought that Oogie must have surely devoured the unfortunate Yule man before Jack’s return, however it seems an unknown girl from the town succeeded in creating a brief distraction, allowing our Jack to set things right˜_

_IMPORTANT! IMPORTANT! Oogie Boogie has been KILLED by Jack Skellington. The Yule man has been released, flying away into the night! Halloweentown celebrates, while a mysterious winter storm blows through, covering everything in its path˜_

The pages went on and on, crumpled though they were from being stuffed in old boxes under Isabel’s bed. Sally paged through them more quickly, as a glance at the lightening horizon told her dawn approached.

_After a century or more as one of the underworld’s most eligible bachelors, it appears that Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween, may have finally have found his match. Hopeful prospects our world over mourn, as all evidence indicates Jack is hopelessly smitten with a girl from town, named only Sally. She is reportedly the same one who provided vital assistance the night of Jack’s ill-advised Yuletide debacle. The pair have been nearly inseparable since, even staying together in Jack’s residence, a most unprecedented development. Some with knowledge of this girl’s background first opined it possible that Jack was simply giving her a temporary place to stay. Upon further examination however, restless spirits wandering through Jack’s enviable haunted mansion now confirm without question that Jack’s dark heart has indeed be soundly claimed. We would of course love to tell you more, but those ghosts and their discretion! Suffice it to say, anyone fancying themselves a prospect for the part of Pumpkin Queen, would do well to change their aspirations._

Sally looked up, eyes wide, and blinked.

“Your Majesty? M’aam?” Isabel said with gentle concern. “Is everything alright, Your Majesty?”

“Yes.” Sally replied quickly. “It is. It’s fine. Isabel? Would you mind terribly if I were to borrow these? It’s just that dawn is coming, and I need to get back to our suite with the babies.”

“Of course, M’aam. Take them all, for as long as you’d like!”

Sally smiled, and nodded gratefully.


	10. Chapter 10

_NEWS: Jack Skellington was married yesterday afternoon to his beloved Sally. The young woman, previously employed as a town seamstress, will be henceforth known as Sally Skellington, the Pumpkin Queen of Halloweentown. As recently as a few weeks ago, Sally’s creator, highly respected local mad scientist Doctor Finklestein, disputed the impending nuptials, however it would seem a resolution was reached. Despite occasional naysayers in the town, spectral sources inform us that an eventual agreement was never truly in question, as the happy couple showed no signs of willingness to relent in their plan to marry._

_While proverbial sour grapes are expected, given Jack’s veritable galaxy of hopeful admirers, level-headed ghouls view this union as a breath of relief for Halloween itself. After the catastrophe of Jack’s attempted holiday switch, we wondered if he’d ever be able to regain his previous delight in horror. Observations indicate that since finding romance with his now queen, the terrifyingly talented, but often mercurial, Jack has displayed renewed passion for holiday work. It seems there is nothing more horrific than the Pumpkin King in love! His wife has already demonstrated an unprecedented talent for capturing her headstrong husband’s attention, and directing his focus where it belongs. Thank the darkness for that! With next Halloween only months away, one almost feels sorry for those poor unsuspecting humans!_

Sally uttered a tiny squeak of a giggle behind her fingers.

oOo

Jack crept back to the inn, well after sunrise. Aware he was returning later than planned, one of the Halloweentown vampires kindly gave him lend of a black parasol. It blocked the glare well enough, but Jack still heaved a tired sigh at the relentless morning heat, before ducking into the inn’s shadow. Inside, he made his way to the room. _So far, so good_. he thought. If the babies were crying, he would have heard them from the entry foyer. Jack pressed the side of his skull against the paneled door, listening. Silence, as he’d hoped and expected. His family was asleep. He opened the door as quietly as possible.

The babies were indeed asleep. That much was true. Even Zero was sleeping, flipped upside-down on the bedspread like a stray pillowcase. Jack's queen, however, was not. She sat up at a small table beside the window, drinking tea and sorting through a pile of worn papers. A single golden sunbeam stretched through a crack between the curtains, illuminating her page. She smiled at him and mouthed a silent greeting, before returning to whatever so captivated her.

_Announcement: We’re delighted to report that Sally Skellington, the Pumpkin Queen gave birth to twin sons this morning! The new princes and their mother are said to be doing well. Jack Skellington returned early from an unparalled holiday performance to attend the birth of his sons._

“Hello. What’s all this?” Jack asked, kneeling by his wife. “I thought you’d be long since fallen asleep.”

“I should be, I suppose.” Sally answered, opening her eyes. “But look, Jack! Isabel, the one who helped me the other day? She’s kept all these things, and she let me borrow them! It’s all the news about everything! It’s Halloweentown, and you, and me. It’s us! Even Nicky and Jacky! Isn’t that amazing?”

Jack flipped through a handful of the messages, but as the words: “Jack Skellington” and “Christmas” in close proximity to one another greeted his sockets, he flinched and placed the papers back where he’d found them.

“Bother.” he sighed. “I told you all of that disaster was news just about everywhere.”

“Oh, stop, Jack.” Sally said lightly, kissing his skull. Jack groaned and slunk away toward the bed. He paused turning back to her.

“Why would anyone want you to read that, anyway? Are they trying to get you to remember what a fool your dear husband was? That hardly seems nice.”

“I asked for these, darling. Don’t worry. That's not the part I’m interested in. " Sally replied, without lifting her eyes from the page. Jack waited a moment, expecting elaboration, but within seconds she was engrossed once more, and he was as good as alone by her side.

“Come to bed, love.” he said. “I’m so sorry our trip was interrupted by work silliness.”

“I will Jack. I’m nearly ready.”

“I want to hear about your evening, Sally. Promise you’ll tell me everything? But, for the moment, I'm afraid that if we don’t get some sleep, we won’t be much good after sundown. I'm exhausted after all that holiday business, and you know how spoiled you've made me for not sleeping alone."

Sally at last broke from the page, favoring him with a smile. She breathed a small sigh, and pulled the curtains tight against the sunlight.


	11. Chapter 11

“I must say, Sally. It sounds as if you had a fantastic time while I was gone. I’m nearly jealous! You and the children had a lovely adventure, and there I was, up to my eye sockets in holiday bickering. I’m very glad to be back at your side.”

“I’m so very happy you’re here again too, Jack. We only have a few more days, after all.”

Jack gazed happily at his wife. She sat across from him at a ghostly open air restaurant, by the sea, wearing a strapless dress she’d fashioned from some of her purchased fabric. She’d thought twice, and then a third time, about venturing from their room in something that felt to her so acutely insecure, but then, it was more than many of the women in the triangle wore, and they appeared no worse for doing so. Besides, Sally thought, while her shoulders felt strangely chilly and exposed, the skirt flowed nearly to her ankles. Therefore, strictly speaking, she was more covered than in one of her usual dresses. That was true, wasn’t it? Sally was used to her brain being filled with “What ifs?” and “Be carefuls.” While such sensible thinking generally served her well, she was pleased for once to lay it to one side. She realized she’d never been able to do so before, though she’d sometimes wished she could. It wasn’t clear what had changed, if anything. There were too many new variables to consider, everything from The Triangle itself, to Isabel’s papers, to being anywhere other than Halloweentown. She looked out from their table to the nearby ocean. Propped up in their basket, one of the princes exclaimed musically, almost as if he’d read his mothers thoughts. Sally wriggled her fingers against his ribs, and got a squeaky giggle in reply.

“I learned so much from those papers.” she said, her thought stepping back to where they’d been all day. She’d regaled Jack with insights gained from her reading since they’d awoke. “I’m sorry if I’m becoming tiresome.” she said, looking at him with her brow creased. “I can’t help it.”

“You could never be tiresome to me, Sally.” said Jack. “I’m sorry if perhaps it feels I should have said more to you, but it never occurred to me! There didn’t seem to be much that you wouldn’t already know. We traveled down every inch of those roads together. The trials, and the wonderful parts too. I never thought you’d need to read it all.”

“It’s different to see it from the outside, Jack. Different to me, anyway. It’s like watching everything the way someone else would see it. Someone who didn’t know me at all.”

“That’s another thing, my darling. I know how private you are, how much you prefer our lives to be ours alone. I’m sorry in a way, because if I wasn’t who I am, we could have that.”

“That may be true, but I don’t feel troubled about that part. I’m The Pumpkin Queen. I know now that’s different than just being me, just Sally, alone in the doctor’s house.”

“I’d assert that you’ve always been The Pumpkin Queen, my love. We just didn’t know it at first.”

Jack leaned his skull on his hand, studying his wife with an expression of keen interest.

“What is it, Jack?” she asked, leaning closer.

“It’s nothing, darling. Only, I find myself unable to take my eye sockets from your shoulders. I’m afraid I’m rather captivated.”

Sally’s stitched cheeks darkened. She looked down at her lap, smiling.

“It’s not the kind of thing I can wear at home, I know. Not really. But the fabric is so lovely, isn’t it? And I didn’t even have to even sew it!”

“You’re remarkably clever, as always.” said Jack. “Clever, and impossibly distracting! I’m not used to seeing your shoulders outside of our room, and it’s most delightful. Also delightful is being your lucky and besotted husband, while so many of these other creatures are making eyes at you.”

Sally gave her husband a quizzical expression. He took a slow sip from his wine glass, while delivering a barely perceptible gesture of direction. Sally’s eyes returned to her lap, before castive a furtive glance to the side. Jack was correct. Some distance away, a table of well dressed, pale creatures regarded her longingly. Sensing her attention, they quickly turned back among themselves.

“I don’t understand...” Sally whispered to Jack. “They’re vampires, but it’s the wrong time for that.”

“Come again?”

“I only mean, the vampires at home used to stare sometimes. You know. Once every moon cycle they’d stare at me, but then, I think they realized what it was, and they stopped. Or they just got used it, I suppose. Maybe these vampires aren’t used to girl things, but then, some of them are girls, too. Perhaps vampires are different. I’m not sure about that.”

“Oh! No, no.” Jack said with a gentle laugh. “They’re staring because you’re attractive, my darling. Very attractive. I tell you that all the time, but maybe you’ll believe it with some outside proof.”

Sally slid her eyes once more to the vampires. They were mostly engaged with the goblets of glittering crimson that had just arrived on their table, but one or two still looked, obviously trying to be subtle about it. As Sally considered this, a werewolf crept by on the way to his table. Less sophisticated than the vampire quorum, he did a clear double-take upon passing, and very nearly tripped into another dining party. It was then that Sally realized where she’d previously witnessed such behavior: Isabel and her friends, mooning over Jack. 

“Are you alright, love?” Jack asked, laying his hand on hers. 

“I am.” Sally replied. She squeezed his fingers.

oOo

After dinner, Jack carried the twins’ basket on one arm, while Sally held fast to his other one. All these many years later, he remembered the twisting pathways and hidden trails of the island from when he was a skeleton boy. He lead his family deftly through what seemed to Sally impenetrable darkness, until they emerged at last from the trees and leaves onto an isolated stretch of silver sand.

“Here we are!” Jack announced in a pleased sing-song. “I’d hoped it was the same. It’s not as if I’m the only one that comes here, but this stretch of beach is a measure more out of the way than others. Not worth the trouble for most. We’ll return to the inn in due time, but we’ll rest her for a spell, and take in the quiet. The children can eat, and if we’re lucky they’ll fall asleep.”

The King and Queen sat side by side in the cool sand. Jack stretched his bones, inhaling the misty night air. Sally was silent for a long spell as she stared out over the waves. The water tumbled into itself again and again, never ending. Each wave left a lacy necklace of froth on the sand, soon replaced with another, and another.

At last, Jack took his sons and settled them one at a time in the basket. Nicholas had indeed nodded off by the time his brother was laid beside him. Jack junior blinked his huge eye sockets up at the starry sky, but his lids were heavy.

“We may be in luck.” Jack whispered. “They’ll surely both be out before we’re back to our room.”

Jack extended a hand to help his wife up. She took it, but instead pulled him firmly back toward the sand.

“We have a little time before sunrise, don’t we Jack? And if they’re asleep...”

Her husband raised a brow in question.

“We do, yes, but - ”

Sally smiled.

“Then, come back to me, Jack. Just for a few minutes. Since we have time.”

“But, someone could come... Probably not, it is far from the worn path, but...”

“I think it would be okay, Jack, wouldn’t it? I only mean, well, it’s not as if we aren’t allowed. And it isn’t like home, where everyone is everywhere.”

“You’re quite serious, Sally?”, Jack asked again. She nodded, smiling up at him.

“Well, then. Aren’t you fun in The Triangle!” he laughed, allowing her to pull him down.


	12. Chapter 12

"That was most unlike us!" Jack said, smiling up at the star splattered dome above them. Sally sat up, rearranging her dress for the walk back.

"Do you think so?" she asked, already a deft hand at tying the ornate fabric. "It felt like us, to me."

"I only mean the venue, darling." Jack laughed. "You're often uneasy even kissing too much where we might be seen."

"At home, yes." said Sally, her words punctuated by a short sigh. "Someone always has an opinion at home, and no one understands us. It's different here."

"It is different, you're right. But, home can adjust, if our people get used to it. Although, I dare say a repeat of this evening might not be prudent." Jack chuckled as he brushed sand from his slacks. "Either way, we really should start back to the inn now. I had a taste of the sun here this morning. Trust me when I tell you, Sally, it's more than our kind can bear!"

Sally let Jack help her to her feet. He lifted the twins' basket and as before, hooked it into the bend of one arm, holding his other out for her to take. Sally stepped toward him, an inquisitive smile playing across her mouth.

"Are you mine, Jack?" she asked, her large eyes reflecting the moonlight. Jack cocked his skull, bewildered by the question. Sally had been a deeper river than usual this since his return from Halloweentown. He knew she was full of thoughts and questions, sparked by the sudden immersion in a world larger than anything she'd known. But even so, she was still his beloved. The thought that anything could plant a doubt in her heart about him, struck Jack at his core.

"Why, Sally, of course I am! Whose else's would I be? I'm most assuredly yours, and yours alone!"

His wife nodded, stepping to his side. They began to walk, her serene smile standing in marked contrast to Jack's troubled confusion.

"Why ever would you fret over such a thing?" he asked. Hearing the true worry in his voice, Sally squeezed his arm.

"I'd never fret over you, Jack. Not at all. It's only that I'm still pondering all of these new things. At home, I always hear that I'm yours. Do you remember when Rupert's werewolf cousin came from London? When he visited Halloweentown? I heard Rupert tell him that I was yours. Fishgal said that the Doctor told the witches he didn't miss me, and that I'm yours now. Remember when the Mayor said how much scarier you've been? He said that maybe it was good for you to take a queen. I thought, what a very odd thing to say! You didn't take me. We came together, right after Christmas. We decided we belonged to each other."

"That is a peculiar turn of phrase, I grant you." said Jack gently. The Pumpkin King was visibly comforted that his wife's questions apparently amounted to an examination of semantics, rather than doubt of his devotion. Nevertheless, he couldn't begin to guess where it was all going. Not that he would have to. Sally talked away, as he led her through the shadows.

"I love being yours, Jack, but no one ever says that you're mine! Isn't that funny? Strange funny. I don't think anyone in Halloweentown has ever said 'Jack belongs to Sally now.'"

"Au contraire." countered Jack, striking the air with his index finger. "I've said words to that very effect! My heart is yours."

"Yes, _you_ say it, Jack. I know that's how you feel, and it makes me warm and fluttery inside, still! Please don't misunderstand. I'm delighted to be yours in every sense of the word. I love being The Pumpkin Queen. _Your_ queen. I even rather like the idea of being taken! But, sometimes at home, it's tiring to always feel like I'll never be considered more than an odd quiet thing, always acted upon. Something made, created, taken, ownedÖ Now I know that our larger world sees me as more. That makes Halloweentown even more frustrating than it was before! Although, maybe it's somehow less frustrating too? I know how small home is now, and I feel larger myself."

They'd stopped walking at some point in Sally's flurry of thought, and now stood facing one another along the path. Her gaze was unfocused in the enveloping blackness, until Jack placed a hand on her face. She stepped into him, and rested her cheek against his chest. She giggled nervously.

"I'm not making much sense."

"Yes, you are, love. But, what do we do, Sally?" Jack kissed her head, stroking her hair as he spoke. "How do we fix it? How do we make our town a softer place for you?"

Sally thought for a moment before replying:

"I'm not sure that _we_ can, Jack. I think I have to do it."

"I see. Well then, can I at least be of help?"

"Always, Jack. You are, without even trying."

The couple shared a kiss on the dark path. They linked arms and walked the rest of the way to the inn with no further words.

In their room, Jack closed his eye sockets and fell asleep immediately. Sally noted more than once that Jack rarely chased sleep. The twins slept by his side, as before. Sally reached across the bed and caressed Jack's skull, stifling a giggle when he smiled through his sleep and uttered a contented purr at her touch. Their time in this place was nearly at an end. Soon, they would all return to Halloweentown. As nice as it is here, Halloweentown is home. Sally thought.

Halloweentown. When the layers of the place were pulled apart, there was plenty to love. The carved pumpkin sun was kind compared to the blistering white heat of The Triangle's daylight. On dreary days, everything stood diffused through fog, or rain, or thin mists. The clear days were nice too, when one could smell smoke on the air from bog fires, and melted sugar from whoever was serving candy duty. There were the bleak grooved hillsides with their tenacious trees, black gnarled branches stretching to the sky like ink scribbles. There were mushrooms at the edge of the swamp, wild onions around the pumpkin patch, and windfall apples on the farthest hill tops. And then there was the house. Sally's brain almost said: "Jack's House" - but that wasn't right these days. It hadn't been right for a while. _Our house_. Aggressively complex in its layout, and intimidatingly nonsensical to anyone new, the Skellington home now felt as secure and familiar to Sally as if she were living within a chamber of her own heart. The mischievous floorboards that made a habit of rippling underfoot settled respectfully when she crossed the halls. Every door had its own comforting creak, and the windows that rattled loudly in their frames on stormy nights served only to remind her how warm her bed was.

Her mind traveled back to Isabel's papers, their short proclamations etched into her brain:

" _You may wish that we had more to report from the town of Halloween, but remember: No news is good news. Some may be as green as swamp water with envy, but by most accounts, the holiday's new queen is a horrific delight. She is perhaps more taciturn than one might expect, however, to quote the bard: "The lady is young". Give her time, dear ghouls and monsters. A creature who nearly infiltrated the terrible Oogie Boogie's dungeon, and subsequently captured the heart of the Pumpkin King, could well be a force to be reckoned with, when she comes into her own."_

Her thoughts replayed the passage again and again, interspersed with those vampires from dinner, and the strange stumbling werewolf. Then the curtsies of the hotel girls, and the respectful bows from other guests. And Santa, that night in Oogie's empty dungeon. _"I'd listen to her..."_

Jack awoke with a start as his wife suddenly sat upright in their bed.

"Sally? What is it, darling? What's the matter?"

Sally stared in silence at the far wall, as morning filled the room around them. At last, she turned to her husband. Barely troubling herself to whisper over the sleeping twins, she said clearly:

"I am the Pumpkin Queen."


	13. Chapter 13

"Where's Jack?" squawked the werewolf, looking right and left. The Skellingtons had returned home the previous evening, but far too late to get any work done. Now a group of townsfolks waited impatiently in the square, anxious to show The Pumpkin King all they'd done in his absence.

"He did come home last night, didn't he?" The Mayor worried. "I should have stayed up to make sure he was back, but I fell asleep! It's been so terribly stressful, this past week!"

"They're back." said one of the vampires. I saw them come home, not long after midnight."

"We saw them too." the taller witch sister said, adding: "What on earth was Sally wearing?"

Her question met with no reply, as just then, Jack emerged from his house and strode briskly down the front stairs. He gave his suit jacket a tug, and stepped into the small crowd, ready to resume the creation of Halloween.

oOo

Inside the Skellington home, Sally sat at a small writing table in the parlor, pen in hand.

_Dear Isabel,_

_I'd like to thank you once more, for sharing your papers with me. They were very..._

She stopped. What were they? She'd learned the word "illuminating" from Jack, and that fit perfectly, but how did one spell that? Her writing was much better than it had been, but Sally nevertheless wished her ability in that area would hurry and catch up to the rest of her. No matter, no other word would do. All that she'd learned, and seen, and heard, could only be described as illuminating. Heaving a sigh, she rose from the desk, returning a moment later with the household's heavy old dictionary.

"I'm so slow at this, we'll be in here all morning." she said to Jack jr. He answered his mother with a melodic burble, pulling himself up against her leg.

_I'd like to thank you once more, for sharing your papers with me. They were very illuminating. I am still learning about the world outside Halloweentown. Reading those stories helped me see things from a different place. Everyone should do that, don't you think? When you look at things differently, it helps you grow._

_I'm happy to be back home in Halloweentown for now, but I am sure we'll visit The Triangle again, maybe when the children are bigger._

_Thank you for agreeing to write back and forth with me. It will be nice to get letters to read. I'm not the best at writing words, but I am getting better, and this will help me with that, too._

_Please thank Harold again for coming out with us, when Jack had to step away. I hope Constance isn't too impatient with him. It takes a long time to know the right things to do, and he tries very hard. I know what that feels like. You can show her this letter, if you think it would help him._

_I suppose I should go outside now, and begin my work for the day. People might not think there is a lot of sewing work to do for Halloween, but there is. I do a lot of other things too. I don't think the other people in this town know how much I do. That isn't all their fault. I am going to be a little louder this year. Not like Jack, but perhaps, quietly loud? Or louder, but in a very soft way? I sound very silly right now, I'm sure, Isabel. I hope the new papers don't write that The Pumpkin Queen is going mad! if you read that, could you please tell everyone that I'm finding my way?_

_I look forward to reading a letter from you,_

_Sally Skellington_

_The Pumpkin Queen_

oOo

After the initial flurry of everyone catching Jack up to all they'd done while he was away, the Halloweentown square settled into a less frenzied, though still busy, state. A small group of citizens fell into line. A few held one ghoulish thing or another, while others practiced new terrifying techniques to perform before Jack for his approval. The Mayor was about to ask if Sally would be out soon to finish the new town hall curtains she'd started before leaving for The Triangle, when he saw her emerge from the house. As usual, she wore the princes in their soft cloth sling against her. Zero followed, bobbing along through the air just behind her legs. She made her way carefully down the twisting steps from the front door and slipped through the gate, into the square. She seemed to pause there for an instant, taking a breath, or perhaps thinking. The Mayor wondered if she'd forgotten something back in the house. But then, The Pumpkin Queen turned and walked into the square, to Jack's side.

Very shortly after that Christmas, Sally remembered stepping timidly into the square one morning, and taking her place in the usual line to speak to Jack. When she reached him that day, he told her that she was never to wait in line to see him. "You're my love! You don't wait in line for me." he said. She appreciated his words, but still felt awkward and uncomfortable moving ahead of everyone else who was waiting, queued up for their moment to speak with The Pumpkin King. Once the babies were born, she made exception for their needs, but for herself, she usually found it less troublesome to simply go to her sewing tent and wait. Jack always came to her eventually.

Today, she walked directly to Jack's side. She felt only half as sure inside as she appeared to onlookers, but that hardly mattered. Jack gave her a cheerful good morning. He relieved her of baby Nicholas. They made plans to trade in two hours, just before lunch. The line of townsfolk waited patiently, with only silent glances echanged.

"I will catch up with shortly then, darling." said Jack. He kissed the top of Sally's head. It was their customary display of affection, when in town. They did peck one another's lips now and again, but the audible fascination and revulsion such behavior could typically prompt, always made Sally even more bashful than usual. They'd had this argument more than once, she and Jack. He'd relented to her shyness, alien though it was to him, and settled for kissing her head. She let him do so, and began to walk away, but then, to the astonishment of all around her, including Jack. Sally turned back and pressed her mouth firmly to his for a count of precisely three and one half seconds. She rested one hand on his chest, gripping the pressed white cloth of his dress shirt in her fingers. Jack uttered a surprised, most un-Pumpkin King-like squeak, and murmurs rang through the assemblage

"I will see you before lunch." Sally said softly, once she'd released him. Jack swallowed and nodded, looking rather dazed, but not at all unhappy. She turned and started toward her sewing tent, leaving the whispers behind her to rise like storm water.


End file.
